


Still One Step Left

by rumisfordrinking



Category: ATEEZ (Band), ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Poly, Demon Hunters!Ateez, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Temporary Character Death, Vampire!Oneus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25735909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumisfordrinking/pseuds/rumisfordrinking
Summary: “Hwanwoong has a boyfriend.” Dongju sing-songs, head resting in the crook of Youngjo’s neck, his hands tapping against the vampire chest in a stuttering rhythm.Hwanwoong would love to retaliate, but he decides to simply stick his tongue out to him and reaches for the remote.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Song Mingi/Yeo Hwanwoong
Comments: 10
Kudos: 81
Collections: Stupid Cupid FicFest 2020





	Still One Step Left

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is not the first fic I've written, but it is the first one I've published! yay!  
> I'd like to thank Perse for being a lovely friend and also organizing this FicFest!!
> 
> Please be mindful of the warnings and tag when reading as there might be some scenes that could be potentially triggering or at least upsetting!!!

It starts with a call.

Hwanwoong isn’t the one answering it, Youngjo getting to the phone quicker. He’s not even paying too much attention either, feeling like there was no need to, after realizing who it was and what they needed.

“Who is it?” Dongju asked, from where he’s draped over his armchair. It technically belonged to Geonhak, but anyone pointing it out or trying to get the youngest of them out of it would get bitten. “Joongie hyung’s hunter group again?”

“It seems so.” Hwanwoong answers, closing off the book he was reading. He had joined Dongju in the living room as he was avidly watching a drama on TV, barely moving if not to gasp or ‘ooh’ during appropriate moments. He turns to look towards the foyer, where Youngjo was, chatting on the phone. “I think they don’t know what they might be dealing with.”

If eternity has any upsides, knowledge was one of them for sure, and Youngjo had his fair amount of decades to back his own up. 

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Dongju comments, more curious than concerned. He wasn’t the kind of person to panic or worry unless he knew something bad might happen for sure. 

Hwanwoong levels him with a look anyway, for saying something so obvious. “Maybe, but Youngjo hyung surely knows something that can help them. They wouldn’t have called otherwise, would they?”

Dongju hums, reaching over the coffee table and grabbing his half finished cup of blood.

When he got turned, Hwanwoong already knew most of the superstitions and legends surrounding vampires were bullshit. Sure, their skin was highly photosensible and standing in the sun will burn it off, but there’s no dying in a cloud of dust. Yes, they drink blood to feed themselves, but they can also still eat normal food even if it doesn’t really give them enough nutrients - unless you were as old as Youngjo and Seoho and your stomach would stubbornly refuse to process anything but blood. But beside that, a picket to the heart would kill anyone, waiting to be invited to get into someone’s house was simply good manners, and brooding around at night looking for helpless virgins to drain was just a lifestyle choice, and one no one in Youngjo’s little family condoned.

Youngjo walks into the room, cellphone wedged between his ear and shoulder. He’s chatting quickly, tone not urgent, but there’s definitely some underlying worry there. “Were any bones left?” He asks, plucking books from the highest shelves and paging quickly through them once he can’t find what he’s looking for.

“Is Jongho there? Can I say hi?” Dongju asks, and even without waiting for an answer he shouts. “HI JONGHO!”

Youngjo turns to give him a smile, ever so endeared by their youngest, but turns back quickly to his books. “Yes, it’s Dongju saying hi to- Jongho says hi back!”

Hwanwoong tries to follow the conversation, but he’s missing half of it to properly understand. 

The episode is almost to its end, and Youngjo has pulled down half a whole shelf before he taps Hwanwoong on the shoulder with the phone. “For you.”

“Hello?” Hwanwoong answers, and a little giggle breaks from the other side, one he knows well.

“Hi hyung, sorry to bother. I just wanted to say hello.”

Song Mingi is one of the newbies in Kim Hongjoong’s group of demon hunters. He’s a big baby with a heart of gold and not enough sense of preservation. Hwanwoong had taken a liking to him over the course of last year, as he had helped him learn erbs, mixtures and poultices that were essential in his line of work, but that he just seemed to never get right on his own. Outside of work, he didn’t look either dangerous or prepared enough for the job he had chosen, seeing as he also was a huge scaredy cat.

“It’s good to hear you.” Hwanwoong answers, curling up and smiling to himself. He can hear Dongju fake gagging and blindly throws him a pillow. “Get back in one piece, we have a date this weekend don’t we.”

Mingi laughs. “Is it really a date if everyone else is coming as well, though?” He hears someone’s voice in the background, maybe Seonghwa, asking for Mingi. There’s rustling as he covers the mic and answers them, apologising once he’s done.

“Why, you’d like that? If it was just the two of us?” Hwanwoong asks, and Dongju gags louder. This time he turns to glare at the youngest, now happily curled in Youngjo’s lap, sipping from his cup, wiggling his eyebrows at him. 

“Hyung, stop playing with me” Mingi whines, and Hwanwoong can clearly see his pout in his head. “You know I like you…”

Hwanwoong wants to tease him a little more, just because it’s fun and because Mingi likes being teased too, but he hears Hongjoong doing the roll call, Seonghwa and Yunho answering at the same time, Yeosang replying after a beat. “Go, Mingi. And be safe.”

“I will, promise!” Mingi says, smacks a loud kiss on the mic that makes Hwanwoong wince due to the volume and hangs up. 

“Hwanwoong has a boyfriend.” Dongju sing-songs, head resting in the crook of Youngjo’s neck, his hands tapping against the vampire chest in a stuttering rhythm. Hwanwoong would love to retaliate, but the way Youngjo is petting the youngest tells him that now any and all actions carried against him will be stopped on sight. He decides to simply stick his tongue out to him and reaches for the remote. 

He didn’t think a handful of hours later he’d been startled by loud and desperate pounding against the front door, somewhere in the deep of the night. The whole family rushes to the foyer in various states of undress, but he’s the first to arrive and open the door. “Who—”

A body, heavy and uncoordinated drapes over him bringing the stench of sweat and death. He can feel the blood stain his silk shirt and his brain has difficulties working as soon as he sees who it is.

“MINGI!”

His hands tremble while he lets the man down on the ground gently, immediately checking for a pulse and if he’s breathing. He’s badly wounded, deep and ugly gashes covering his body, the left side of his face a red mask of guts and blood that makes Hwanwoong gag on sight. He tears at his shirt, pressing it over Mingi’s left eye as soon as he realizes that he’s still bleeding freely, shouts to the others for help. Seoho is immediately at his side, scraps of fabrics pressed into the bigger wounds. 

“I’m so sorry, we were trying to bring him back to the cloister…” Hongjoong’s voice comes from the entrance, breathing heavily as if he had been running after Mingi. He’s wounded as well, not as badly as Mingi, but he carries his right leg funny and his clothes are soiled in various, dark body fluids. Geonhak goes to his side immediately, seeing him struggle to stay upright on his own. “He won’t make it through the night, I’m sorry… when he knew, he jumped out the car to come here.”

Hwanwoong’s blood freezes in his veins and his stomach gives a violent lurch that makes him turn and throw up bile. He keeps the pressure on Mingi’s eye as best as he can, looks up in search of his sire. “Hyung, please…” he begs, feeling tears spill free from his eyes. 

Youngjo is trying to bandage the wounds as best as he can, helped by Seoho and Keonhee while Geonhak and Dongju help Hongjoong. His face doesn’t betray any sign of emotion while his hands work and he ignores every and all of Hwanwoong’s pleas. 

Mingi stirs, coughing up blood. “Hyung.” he speaks, and his voice is tired, heavy and broken, his lungs failing to get enough air. Hwanwoong cries out, a pitiful, shaky whine spilling free from his lips as his hands tremble, skin to skin against the ugly gash that has dug out Mingi’s left eye, now a pool of blood. He burns under his palm. “I wanted to say goodbye.”

Hwanwoong remembers dying. He remembers laying in a dirty back alley smelling of piss and melting trash, his head turned up to look into the clear starry sky as he bled out from the neck. He remembers the panic, the horror settling into his body replacing every drop of blood he was losing, his limbs heavy and useless as he tried to stop the bleeding. He remembers thinking about nothing and everything at the same time, about how it wasn’t fair, how he deserved it, how he didn’t want to die, how he didn’t care about dying. How his body would’ve been dog food by morning since no one really passed by that part of the city.

He remembers Dongju dying too, a shell of his former self in a hospital bed, skinny and void of any spark of life. How he had held onto his little, weak hand tightly as Youngjo kissed his forehead and then bit into his other wrist.

Nothing compares to watching and feeling Mingi letting go, looking straight into his eyes with so much warmth and love.

Geonhak gently nudges him to place his hands over Mingi’s sternum and start compressing, while Youngjo, as calm and level as ever, talks the rest through simple orders. Hwanwoong thinks that he can hear Mingi’s ribs crack.

“We need to move him.” Youngjo tells him, crowding into his vision, a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Let him be comfortable when you say goodbye.”

Hwanwoong lets go as well.

He lets Seoho take his place, lets Geonhak and Youngjo haul the body into the nearest guest room. He stays kneeled on the ground for a couple heartbeats, looking into nothing and everything at once. He’s got blood on his trousers and blouse, up to his elbows, dripping from his fingertips into the floor. He hears Hongjoong breath in, trembling, and he’s up before he can hear whatever he’s about to say because he’s going to cry, and he knows if he starts he won’t stop anytime soon.

The room is silent and dark when he walks in. Seoho immediately fusses around him, a wet towel to clean the blood from his skin as best as he can, tugging off his shirt and making him put on an oversized sweater, too soft and warm for how cold Hwanwoong feels. 

Mingi is in the bed, looking less like a freak carpentry accident and more like a human again, barely breathing. Youngjo leaves the lamp on the nightstand lit and quietly collects the others, closing the door on their way out.

Hwanwoong swallows around the knot in his throat and slips into bed, careful not to jostle Mingi. He’s close enough he can see the freckles left around from the blood across his face, watch the almost imperceptible move of his chest, slower every other breath in he takes.

“Hello, sweetheart.” Hwanwoong murmurs, voice barely above a whisper, as he settles down next to Mingi. He slowly and very carefully places an arm around his waist, trying his best not to mess the bandaging. Not like he has to worry about making it worse, he knows. He sniffles, kissing Mingi’s shoulder and keeping his nose there as he closes his eyes and cries.

Waiting to hear the last breath.

  
___ * _ * _ *** _ * _ * ___

When Hwanwoong emergers from the room an hour later, trembling and crying, the rest of Mingi’s hunter group had arrived, all gathered together in the living room. Keonhee seemed to have brewed them all some calming herb tea, cups mostly or completely empty left around. Hongjoong was still clutching his and some of the tea spilled when he looked up at Hwanwoong.

Hwanwoong is looking at his bare feet, but he can easily tell all eyes in the room are on him. There’s some sniffles, a couple of sighs. He’s not too sure whose, but it wouldn’t matter anyway: Mingi was a fluffball of smiles and sunshine, someone all of them had quickly become friends with and losing him like that would’ve brought the most stoic to them all to tears. He knows that, because when Youngjo had left the room before, he was teary eyed, a sight that hadn’t happened in a very long time.

“He’s not dying.”

He can feel the way the air stills and everyone frowns at the same time. He takes a deep, shaky breath in, before repeating.

“He’s not dying, and I don’t know why.” He looks up, finally, and he can only imagine how ugly he must look, make up melt and smeared around his eyes, cheeks red and tears falling freely. “He’s burning up and in pain and he’s… he’s not dying and I don’t know— and I _can’t_ help him. I can’t, I just can’t.”

“What the fuck.” San whispers, curling up on Hongjoong side. The sentiment is shared by everyone else too, according to their expressions, and if Hwanwoong hadn’t already pitifully thrown up three times to the point his throat burned, he’s sure he’d be retching already. He gets startled by one of Youngjo’s hands on his bicep, not having even noticed he had moved from his seat. He swallows.

“Do you want me to—”

“No.”

Hwanwoong knows Youngjo only means well, and that turning Mingi would not only end his suffering, but also save his life, but he has no intention to force eternity onto someone so important to him, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if it ended up being the worst decision to take. Despite how desperate he is, how much he feels his soul bursting at the seams and his body unravelling with it, he’s not turning Mingi without his consent. And he’s unable to give any, while dying.

Youngjo holds his hands, and with that one fixed point of contact Hwanwoong is much more aware of how much he’s shaking. “Then, Woongie, do you want me to _help_ him?”

There’s a moment of relief that fills in for the missed beats of his hearts as Hwanwoong considers the offer for half a second. The responsibility taken out of his hands, the weight of the decision passed onto someone else, someone who’s done it before and will probably do it again when needed, someone who can see it as mercy instead of murder, who’s had enough time dealing with grief and loss and guilt to work through it and live again. But soon after relief is quickly and fully replaced by disgust and guilt, hand in hand, cutting into his breath.

He knows Youngjo can live with putting Mingi out of his misery.

He knows he himself will never.

“I’ll go back.” Hwanwoong says. “I’m sorry.”

Youngjo lets him go and he storms back into the guest room.

Despite being gone for just a couple minutes, no matter if they felt like years instead, the scene he sees isn’t even close to what he had left. Mingi was laying still on the bed, breath frantic and raspy, twitching only occasionally and sometimes moaning in pain.

Now he had kicked the covers off, most of his bandages unravelled as he arched on the bed, head back and mouth open in a silent scream. Hwanwoong gets immediately on the bed, gently cradling Mingi’s head in his hands. He doesn’t know what to do, if restraining him would hurt him more than he already is, or if letting his spams pass freely might end up making him break his neck by the force of how much his muscles were taught.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I don’t know what to do.” He sobs, brushing Mingi’s hair back from his forehead as yet another spasm travels through his body and he sees his limbs bend in painful angles. His skin burns hot under his hands, sweaty, like he’s fighting off a nasty infection. 

That’s when Hwanwoong stops for a second, a blessed moment of clarity clearing the noise in his brain enough to let him think, even if barely. He turns to look down at Mingi’s bare torso, where the bandages had slipped free from the clips holding them together and the pads underneath, soaked completely in blood, were peeling off as well. Hwanwoong reaches and folds one of the ends away. The wound underneath, even if still looking just as ugly and deep, had stopped bleeding. The stitches that someone — probably Seoho — had done in a neat line were holding on. He looks at the more swallow wounds, cuts and bruises that were pointless to patch much beside putting salve on them in hopes to alleviate the pain and stop the bleeding. They were all mostly healed back into a healthy looking scab, and Hwanwoong lets out a little hysterical laugh at that.

“Baby, what is happening to you?” He murmurs, as if Mingi was in any shape to answer.

He looks to the door, looks back at Mingi’s face.

He shouts at the top of his lungs, calling for help, from anyone or everyone. He pushes back all the voices in his head telling him he’s being selfish, that the little bit of false hope he’s feeling is deceiving him. He holds onto it instead, onto the small, irrational fact that Mingi, who should’ve exhaled his last breath well over an hour ago, is still alive and fighting. 

He can deal with guilt later.

___ * _ * _ *** _ * _ * ___

The first time Hwanwoong met Mingi’s hunter group, Mingi was still under training. Hongjoong, the leader, knew Youngjo well due to what everyone thinks is a very heated on-and-off sexual relationship going on for years now, but that no one ever has had any proof about it (yet), so it wasn’t that unusual that him and the other members would often visit the house. 

Hwanwoong had told himself he wouldn’t really pick favourites, but the moment he met Choi San he immediately thought the boy was an angel.

Now, as he’s weakly sucking from San’s wrist he’s thinking that he had never told him, and he should correct that immediately. He licks over the puncture wounds until they’re healed enough he knows they won’t bleed out and then just rests his forehead on San’s upturned palm.

“There, there, it’s been a wholly shitty day, hasn’t it…” San coos, patting his head, making him laugh.

“You’re an angel, thank you.” Hwanwoong says, pulling himself back up and wiping away at the little bit of blood that had dribbled down his chin. San gives him a big, bright smile and then curiously brings his wrist closer to look at the puncture wounds.

“It won’t scar, unless you’re getting turned.” Dongju tells him, rolling up his sleeve to show his turning scar on his left wrist. “So don’t worry about it. And it’s gonna feel a bit like after you donated blood, so I suggest you eat something now, okay?”

Hwanwoong stands up, feeling his legs quite weak still, but much better after feeding, and walks up to where Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Youngjo are talking. He knows they’re discussing Mingi, they have been for the past two hours, right after Mingi’s spams had finally stopped and his temperature had lowered enough to not be worrisome anymore. 

“I think it’s enough research for today. It’s almost dawn, Hongjoong is wounded and didn’t rest a bit, and we have enough space to let the rest of the group sleep here if they don’t mind sharing beds.” Hwanwoong interrupts the heated conversation, closing the tome Youngjo and Hongjoong were arguing over. He takes away the book in Seonghwa’s hands as well and waits.

Youngjo sighs, but doesn’t try to argue. “I’ll go sort out the rooms.”

“We think it’s a _blessing_.” Hongjoong says, Hwanwoong turning to look at him with a questioning raised eyebrow. “The severity of the wounds, the type of demon that caused them… there was no way for him to survive. So we’re thinking that only a blessing could’ve saved him.” Hongjoong bites his bottom lip, hands clasped in front of himself as he wrings his fingers in circles. “None of us were blessed before we went, but you two talked last and maybe—”

Hwanwoong shakes his head. “No, I didn’t bless him, I don’t think I am even powerful enough to do that…” he replies. “Maybe Youngjo but— no, that’s not it.”

Hongjoong nods. 

“Are you okay, Hwanwoong?” Seonghwa asks, gently. He seems to be the most collected of the group, everyone else more or less shaken by the bizarre situation. “I can’t even begin to think what it must’ve been like…”

Hwanwoong isn’t even a little bit okay. Sure, it looks like Mingi is going to survive, but the whole experience has probably scarred him more than his own death. He shakes his head, not even trying to hide his mental state. “Thank you for your concern. I’ll go, now, if you don’t have anything else to tell me.”

Hongjoong and Seonhwa watch him walk away, he can feel their eyes stare at the back of his head until he turns the corner and then slips back into the guest room. 

He had opened up the window to let fresh air in before, the chilly night wind blowing the curtains slightly. He could see the pale halo of the dawn on the horizon. He closes the window and draws the curtains, before changing in his night clothes. He ever so gently manages to change the soiled sheets on the bed to clean ones, doing his best to avoid moving Mingi around too much. He slips in beside him, curling up on his side. Mingi is still nursing a fever, and his body is hot to the touch. His breath is much more regular and not as pained as before, and now that all his bandages have been changed, and his wounds cleaned, they sit pristine white over his skin. 

Sleep isn’t a basic need for him anymore, he can stay awake for years if so he wished. It is needed only to speed up the healing process, to gather back energy after having spent too much all at once, and pass the time when days are too boring to bear awake. So he stays awake, and thinks about what Hongjoong told him, thinks about the way Mingi had collapsed in his arms, his screams as he writhed on the bed. He thinks about all he’s ever read about demons, and curses himself for not reading much at all. Youngjo and Geonhak were the experts. 

“Were you blessed, sweetheart?” He murmurs, caressing gently Mingi’s cheek. “Did someone bless you? Did you bless yourself? Is there something we’re missing?”

He lets out a long sigh, cuddles closer, one hand resting over Mingi’s chest to feel his heart beat. He closes his eyes, counts the beats and lets himself slip into unconsciousness.

___ * _ * _ *** _ * _ * ___

Vampires don’t dream, their whole body shuts down to the bare necessities when they sleep, and apparently dreaming isn’t one of them. So when Hwanwoong thinks he’s dreaming of being burned alive, of all things, he opens his eyes, fully awake, and it takes him a second to remember that yes, vampires don’t dream. Mingi’s body is still burning under his touch, but it doesn’t feel like a fever anymore, it’s much more similar to when you’re still sleepy warm in the morning, all cozy under the covers in winter. He’s also got a tail and horns.

Hwanwoong sits up slowly, blinking. 

Mingi’s features haven’t really changed much, he’s clearly human up to his limbs where his skin gradually turns a deep red to black gradient, nails curved in shiny, short, black claws. The tip of his ears fade into black too, the same black on his forehead disappearing up into his red hair. Two small horns, no more than little stubs compared to the ones he’s used to see on actual demons, sit prettily on his head, right at his hairline, evenly spaced and slightly curved back, points fading into red. And then there’s the tail, strong and smooth, curled lazily around Hwanwoong legs, in a gorgeous black to red gradient. It’s heavy and as warm as the rest of Mingi, and he can occasionally feel it twitch when he tries to slip his legs away.

“Uhm… Mingi?” Hwanwoong tries to call for the other, gently tapping his shoulder. There’s no answer if not in the form of the tail coiling tighter, point swishing lazily in the air. 

“Okay then.” Hwanwoong murmures, looking around. He feels weird, like he should be freaking out since the very much human boy in his bed is now at least part demon, but he’s not. He’s probably spent all kinds of emotions the previous day to even try to panic, and now he’s left with this weird sensation, panic-adiacent. 

Seoho had slept in their room, in case Mingi had a relapse and they needed to take care of him, but the chaise lounge he had been chilling on was now empty, blankets thrown over the back. Hwanwoong doesn’t want to wake up Mingi, so he tries to slowly slip away from him. It proves to be quite tricky, as the tail kept trying to hold on to him. Eventually he has to uncoil it with his hands. It’s smooth to the touch, feeling just like skin would, and the weight of it settles the absurdity of it all into reality.

“Mingi has horns and a tail and he’s red and black, and while I’m glad he isn’t dying anymore: what the fuck?”

Hwanwoong has no patience to break in the news, so he just says it as it is while he walks into the dining room, barefoot, hair a mess and still in his oversize sweater and boxer briefs he had been sleeping in.

Everyone at the table turns to look at him. He sees Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Yunho are the only hunters still present, the others probably having gone back to their headquarters to carry on their duties. Dongju is sitting on Geonhak’s lap, blinking at him, while Geonhak is frowning. Keonhee was draped over Seoho, in the process of stealing food from the plate he was passing to Seonghwa. Youngjo and Hongjoong, stopped in mid conversation, turned to look at him.

“What?”

“You heard me! Can someone come check?”

Mingi, thankfully, doesn’t wake even as everyone crowds into the room, eyes wide. He had moved into the spot Hwanwoong had left and had his nose pressed into the pillow he had used, and Hwanwoong knows he would’ve been teased mercilessly about it if anyone even cared to notice, but a friend who grew horns and a tail is a much more important priority.

He can hear Yunho whisper ‘what the fuck’ over and over under his breath, as well as Seonghwa, Hongjoong and Youngjo starting to whisper between themselves immediately.

Hwanwoong goes back to the bed, and he barely manages to get one knee on it that Mingi is stirring, leaning towards his direction. Hwanwoong crawls towards him, resting his back against the headboard, propped up by a couple pillows. Mingi immediately curls into him, head in his lap, settling down with a deep, content sight.

“This is…” Youngjo starts, but his mouth only stays agape and no sentence manages to slip past it. He looks to the hunters, who look as lost as he does.

“Ok, so. This _is_ Mingi, right? This isn’t some kind of demonic possession slash transformation and… I don’t know?” Yunho asks, voice low but not speaking in whispers anymore. He’s clutching Keonhee, who’s clutching him back, eyes fixed to Mingi’s tail.

Hwanwoong shakes his head. “No, I’d… I’m sure I would know. It’s Mingi.”

Hongjoong scratches his head. “Ok so, a curse, maybe?” He tries, but Youngjo is quick to interrupt him.

“No, his form is functional, a curse corrupts the body chaotically…” He walks closer, hovers on Mingi, one hand out as if to touch, but he doesn’t. “This looks, like… this looks natural.”

“He looks like a succubus.” 

Hwanwoong’s head snaps up, looking at Seonghwa who had just spoken, everyone else turning to look at him as well.

The hunter clears his throat. “I mean, the colors and pattern and the style of his horns— yes they’re, like, just nubs but… it fits.”

Hwanwoong looks down at Mingi, sweet, lovely Mingi who still looks like himself, face lax and serene as he sleeps peacefully in Hwanwoong’s lap. “Wouldn’t you guys know if he was a _hybrid_?” He asks, truly puzzled. Half demons, although very rare, had existed for as long as humans did and it shouldn’t have been difficult for anyone in the room, really, to figure it out. Hwanwoong was just as confused at himself, despite his lack of knowledge on demon lore compared to others.

Yunho, ever so expressive, shrugs his shoulders, hands moving in the air open palmed. “The tail usually gives it away, and Mingi never had one before.”

“Hongjoong, do you think he could’ve kept it hidden?” Youngjo asks, one hand carefully and slowly brushing over Mingi’s bicep, where his skin started changing color.

Hongjoong shakes his head, and his voice is very serious when he replies. “No, Mingi would never. He’s too candid to do that.”

“This is the dude who’d say he’s an angel that had his wings taken out at heaven’s hospital to live on earth.” Dongju points out, earning a glare from Hongjoong.

“He’s an expert bullshitter, sure, but he’d never lie about something like this.” Seonghwa adds. “He would’ve told at least one of us. Or Hwanwoong.”

Hwanwoong lets out a pitiful whine, trying his best not to blush as Dongju sings songs ‘Woongie-hyung has a boyfriend’ again. But still, he agrees with Seonghwa and Hongjoong. Even if not to him, Mingi would’ve confessed to someone, maybe San or Yunho, because he knew the risks of his work and he knew anything could happen and someone knowing his secret would be needed. If anyone knew, he’s sure he wouldn’t have had to pass the worst day of his life laying in bed with a dying Mingi.

“I don’t have enough knowledge about demons, you all know, but…” he says, gently petting Mingi’s head, fingertips tracing over the ridges of his horns. “What if the wounds triggered something inside him? Like, his demon part had been dormant, and the trauma jump started it.”

Youngjo hums. “It happens often enough with plenty of other things, a condition not appearing until something causes it to emerge.” he looks at Hwanwoong, and his eyes are soft and gentle. It makes Hwanwoong relax his shoulders, not having realized how tense he was. “It makes sense.”

Hwanwoong bends down to leave a little kiss on Mingi’s temple.

___ * _ * _ *** _ * _ * ___

Mingi sleeps for a week. He barely moves, but when he does it’s because Hwanwoong is slipping into bed beside him and he curls up next to him, tail wrapping around the closest limb. Beside the initial panic and subsequent confusion, Hwanwoong has to say that he’s adapted to the idea of having a demon for a special someone alarmingly quickly. 

Youngjo and Hongjoong have spent most of the time researching half demons and succubi to know what to expect when Mingi has recovered enough energy to wake up. All their findings are very positive, as long as Mingi’s identity and personality hasn’t suffered greatly and got split. 

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Hwanwoong tells them, petting Mingi’s head on his lap as he reads a magazine in bed.

Youngjo raises an eyebrow at him. “How do you know?”

“I just do.” Hwanwoong replies, looking down. He lightly scratches the nape of Mingi’s neck and he can feel the way he cuddles closer with a happy sigh. “Trust me.”

Hwanwoong is there when Mingi wakes up. He had a feeling it was going to happen, probably a skill he acquired from all the times Dongju had fallen asleep on top of him. He lies down facing the other boy, quietly waiting.

Mingi’s limbs seem to relax even more, his expression smoothing out before he scrunches his nose and his eyes flutter open. He looks extremely tired despite the one hundred sixty eight hours of sleep he had gotten. His eyes focus on Hwanwoong.

“Hyung.”

The voice is rough, deep and breathy, but it makes Hwanwoong tear up all the same. “Hello, sweetheart.” 

Mingi smiles brightly at him before it slowly morphs into a yawn. “Even if an angel is in front of me, I feel like I did not die and go to heaven, did I?”

Hwanwoong laughs quietly. “You didn’t. You’re alive and breathing, thankfully.” He murmurs, leaning closer and slowly bringing up one of Mingi’s hands, kissing his knuckles. “I would’ve hated losing you forever.”

It takes Mingi a handful of seconds to register that something is wrong. He looks at his hands for a while, blinking slowly. Hwanwoong sees the realization in his good eye, the way it slowly gets bigger and bigger, and he pulls Mingi’s hand to his chest, holding it tightly. “Sweetheart, I need you to look at me, okay? And listen to what I’ll tell you.” He says, trying to keep his voice reassuring and calm, even if he can hear it break around the end. It’s getting harder to hold back tears. “You weren’t dying, but we didn’t know why. We thought it was a blessing. A day after you came here, you turned.”

Mingi’s breath is growing quicker and he’s trying to both look and don’t look at the rest of himself. 

“The hyungs did a lot of research and they say you’re going to be okay. You might have to do some adjustments, but nothing else should change.” Hwanwoong continues, cupping Mingi’s face in his free hand. “Can you tell what changed without looking, sweetheart?”

“My hands are black.” Mingi replies, since he could see that, his hand squeezing Hwanwoong tighter intermittently, probably to assure himself it was indeed his own hand. “I… I think there’s something on my head… I can feel its weight…” he continued, eye looking up. “I can’t see from my left eye, but I can feel there’s a patch over it and I remember I got it gouged out by the demon that attacked me.”

Hwanwoong nods. “We couldn’t save it, but we might be able to give you a fake one if the orbit hasn’t been damaged much.” He murmurs, tracing his fingers feather light over the patch. “Anything else?”

“I have a tail.” Mingi replies. “I know it’s there because I can feel it. And because it’s getting harder to try and stop it from wagging. I’m so relieved to see you.”

Hwanwoong lets go then, sobbing loudly and throwing himself into Mingi’s arms, holding him tightly. He cries into his shoulder, Mingi squeezing him tightly back, tail thumping on the bed before it comes to wrap around him as well. 

“I almost mourned you.” Hwanwoong cries, voice muffled by his hiccups and Mingi’s neck. “It was awful and I felt like I was dying with you.”

Mingi whines, before he starts crying as well.

Hwanwoong has a whole week worth of every single emotion known to man and creatures of the night alike to give vent to, and Mingi has a lot of fear and relief to let out as well, so they pass the good part of fifteen minutes just crying, hiccupping and sobbing into each other shoulders. Hwanwoong’s sweater is soaked by the time they calm down, and Mingi is now bright eyed and wide awake. 

“Holy fuck.” Mingi whispers, as he sits up in bed and watches his own tail swishing lazily in front of his eyes. 

Hwanwoong giggles. “Yeah. It’s… something. You kept wrapping it around my ankles while sleeping.”

“I did?” Mingi asks. “I hope I didn’t do anything more embarrassing.”

Hwanwoong scoots closer beside him, resting his head on his shoulder. “Not really. You were really cute, always cuddling up to me.”

“I guess even in what was probably a low level coma I couldn’t really stay away from you…” Mingi laughs, leaning into him. “This is insane. I’m a demon?”

“Half.” Hwanwoong corrects.

Mingi swallows.

“So… either my mother or father fucked a demon.”

“Yep.”

“And I was a normal human until yesterday before—“

“Actually, it was a week ago. Also, no, you’ve never been fully human. Your demon nature was simply dormant.”

“Okay.”

The silence stretches, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. Hwanwoong is used to waiting and Mingi has a lot to sort out in his mind. He gives him all the time he needs.

“Hyung.” Mingi murmurs, turning to look at Hwanwoong.

“Yes?”

“I really need to pee.”

  
___ * _ * _ *** _ * _ * ___

Hwanwoong stumbles into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he slips on the stool in front of it. He groans, melting down onto the cool surface. His cheeks are burning, from crying and from emotions. He thinks he can almost hear them fizzle as they cool down. 

“That looks fun.” Dongju says, sitting beside him and plopping down as well, his cheek pushing up against his eye. “How do you feel?”

“Too much.” Hwanwoong answers. “I feel too much all at once and it’s _revolting_.”

Dongju laughs brightly. “Well, it would be bad if you didn’t. Not everyday your boyfriend turns into a demon instead of dying.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Hwanwoong replies, and he’s levelled immediately by a glare from Dongju.

“Hyung.” He says, and his voice is uncharacteristically void of any tease or sarcasm. “He came to you in what he thought was his final hour. You have more than once referred to him as someone special and important. There’s a line somewhere you both keep crossing back and forth and I think it’s time to stop and decide on which side you stand.”

Hwanwoong hasn’t had many stable stories, and it had been a deliberate choice on his part. He died leaving a boyfriend behind, who called him a collection of awful names when he found out he had turned, and told him he had been cheated on too. Youngjo had courted him at first, but he had felt like he was intruding into a very complex dynamic with the rest of the family he had no intention of accidentally fucking up, especially between the three eldest, and when Dongju came along it got even more complex, too much for his taste. In the end it seemed like it was the right call anyway, seeing how they’re all so much more comfortable with each other than when he first had come into the family.

But after that, his flings barely lasted a day and all for the same reason.

“He’s human, Dongju— or at least he was.” Hwanwoong murmurs. He’d never told anyone this part of himself, this little nagging fear curled up in the back of his head. It was scary, but he also was glad the right time to talk about it had come with the youngest there. He felt safe with Dongju, and he knew the other wouldn’t dismiss his worries nor sugarcoat the issues.

“That’s it? Incompatible with immortality?” Dongju raises an eyebrow. He had never been afraid to judge and complain, no matter who he was talking to, even if sometimes he was too brutally honest. “You don’t want to love someone who’s doomed to die?”

Hwanwoong frowns. “You think it is only about me? Don’t you think it’d be cruel to condemn Mingi to be reminded every single day of his mortality, too? To know I will inevitably survive him?” he murmurs, sitting up. “Do you think it would’ve been easy on either of us?”

Dongju hums, looking pensively at the speckled marble of the counter. “But he could be worth it, right? All the pain and grief of losing him in the end, would be worth the years spent together.”

Hwanwoong brushes his hand through Dongju’s hair. “You’re very sweet, Dongju but it’s not that easy.”

“It could be.” the younger answers. “You’re the one making it complicated.”

Hwanwoong takes in a big sigh, leans down to lay on top of Dongju. “Baby, that’s not how it works.”

“But it could be.” Dongju replies, stubborn as always. “He’s alive now. He’s probably not that mortal anymore.” He wiggles under Hwanwoong’s weight to sneak his arms around him and pull him into a hug. “And I know you like him a lot. And he likes you too.”

It’s not like Hwanwoong had kept his infatuation for the hunter secret, nor Mingi had ever denied he had a fat ass crush for him whenever asked. It’s not even like they had never been together alone, kissing and hugging and eventually slipping apart again, but Hwanwoong had always tried his best to never push too much, to ask for more than he felt comfortable in taking. Mingi had seemed to understand, or at the very least agree with him. 

“Hyung?”

Hwanwoong turns to look towards the voice and finds Mingi standing awkwardly under the archway into the kitchen. He’s holding his tail in his hands, dressed only in an oversized t-shirt — probably Youngjo’s. “I’m sorry to bother, but can I have something to eat, please?”

“Right, sorry, I forgot I was here for that.” Hwanwoong says, slapping his forehead and then walking towards the fridge. 

Mingi shrugs. “It’s okay.”

“Can I see?” Dongju asks, patting the stool next to him with a curious glint in his eyes. Mingi hesitates for a bit before sitting down, hands between his thighs and head sunken between his shoulders. Dongju blinks, slowly reaching out with his fingertips to poke the top of Mingi’s horns, letting out a little ‘ooh’ of surprise when he finds it blunt enough it doesn’t really hurt. He then eyes Mingi’s tail, but before he can touch that as well, Hwanwoong stops him.

“Don’t be annoying, now. Come help.” He says, earning a big pout from the younger, who still stands up and starts preparing the rice to go with the meat Hwanwoong is cooking. They spend some minutes in silence, the only other sounds around them are Hongjoong and Youngjo talking in the living room and music playing from the sleeping area of the house. 

“You’re doing it again.” Hwanwoong points out, nodding to the tip of Mingi’s tail curled around his calf. Mingi jumps a bit as if startled, his tail immediately curling around the legs of the stool instead.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s cute.” Hwanwoong says, smiling at him. “Can you move it easily?”

“Yeah. I kind of don’t even need to think about it.” Mingi replies, looking down at his tail, now swishing in long movements behind him, slowly morphing into an easily recognizable eight pattern before stopping completely. “It just… does its thing, I guess.”

“So you want to hug Woongie hyung, but are too chicken to do so — and your tail does the thing for you instead?” Dongju asks. Hwanwoong elbows him, which only makes the younger elbow him back. Mingi’s cheeks, meanwhile, have become as red as the point of his tail and horns.

When the food is ready, Hwanwoong calls for Hongjoong as well, as Mingi starts digging in the meat right away. He eats like a man starved, which he probably is, and it takes Dongju less than a minute to decide to get more meat and start cooking that as well. Hwanwoong sits down beside him, in front of Hongjoong, who’s eating slower, but with as much appetite. He mustn't have eaten much all week, after all.

“Does it taste okay?” he asks. Mingi nods, mouth too full to speak, and carries on eating. When Dongju serves a new plate, the meat just taken from the grill, Mingi simply grabs a piece with his hand and puts it in his mouth. 

Hwanwoong sees both his upper and lower canines sharp and slightly longer than a human’s, but also the way the burning hot meat seems to not hurt him at all. “That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

“You would know about changing diets, yeah?” Hongjoong smiles at him. “I think right now, as long as he’s healing well and can eat normal food without problems, we can stop worrying, you know?”

Hwanwoong nods. He too thinks that if there was anything more than needed to happen to Mingi’s nature, it would’ve already happened when he had turned. Not to mention if normal food was either toxic or inedible to him, he’d have already thrown up. “What about his eye?”

“Yeah that’s the weird part.” Hongjoong hums, stealing rice from Mingi’s plate as he seemed much more interested in the meat. “It’s healed completely, but not into a human one. The sclera looks black, but it seems it'll start to lighten into a red or gold color soon. Usually means pups are starting to grow into adults.”

Mingi stops chewing, blinking up at Hongjoong, Hwanwoong having a similar expression.

“You’re saying he’s like a teenager?”

“Yup.” Hongjoong confirms. “But instead of mood swings and hormones, he gets horns and an odd colored eye.”

Mingi snorts. “Well that’s reassuring, because I don’t think I’d like to pass through puberty again.” he says, swallowing around a big bite. He reaches for water to help wash the food down and frowns when he sees his plate is empty.

“You’re still hungry?” Hwanwoong asks. 

“Sorry, it’s just…” 

“Mingi, you don’t have to keep apologising, it’s fine. We can get more meat, just need to go down the cellar and grab it from the freezer.” Hwanwoong tells him, squeezing his shoulder. He moves his hand down Mingi’s arm until he can entwine their fingers together. 

“I’ll go get it.” Dongju offers, exiting the kitchen swiftly.

Mingi squeezes his hand with a little smile. “I hope this is just to balance all that I haven’t eaten yet.”

“Might be your new metabolisms.” Youngjo says, walking in and sitting beside Hongjoong. He’s got an old book in his hands that looks quite worn and used, on top of it a new journal that he hands to Mingi. “You’ll probably eat much more than before, mostly meat. You might also like it better raw.” He points to the paragraphs written on the first pages. “Your temperature will be higher than usual, but as long as it doesn’t rise too much there shouldn’t be any issues. Also because you might have become mostly impervious to fire and heat.”

Hwanwoong scoots closer to Mingi, reading from over his shoulder. Youngjo had written down a series of changes and details that were common into demon hybrids and succubi, with a few data noted on the side from where they were monitoring Mingi during his rest. There were a lot of conditional sentences, a lot of maybes and ifs. Hwanwoong looks up to Youngjo with a raised eyebrow.

“Hybrids are rare as it is. Hybrids that maintained their humanity even more, and if you try to narrow it down to those that weren’t killed or died soon, there’s very little information going around.” he pats the cover of the book in front of him. “I got this one from Sister Byul, and I had to read through all the lines to get some useful data seeing as it’s a few centuries old and mostly talks about how to _kill_ demons.”

“The coven let you borrow one of their tomes? What favours did you promise, hyung?” Hwanwoong asks, laughing.

Youngjo waves a hand in the air. He’s about to speak again where Mingi timidly raises a hand, face a healthy shade of embarrassed. “Uhm… what does this bit mean?” he asks, turning the journal towards Youngjo, making sure it doesn’t face Hwanwoong who was trying to take a peek.

Youngjo skims over the paragraphs before looking back at Mingi and tilting his head just slightly, a single eyebrow raised. “Well, you are half succubus, after all.” he says, before looking at Hwanwoong as well.

Two seconds ticks in absolute silence before both Mingi and Hwanwoong turn bright red. 

“It’s only speculation, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it happened.” Youngjo laughs at them. “I’m glad you have someone to take care of you in case it does, thought.”

“Please stop talking.” Hwanwoong begs.

“You don’t even know what he’s written there!” Mingi whines, curled up on himself, face hidden in his hands and tail wrapped tightly around his midsection.

Hwanwoong swats at his arm. “I can imagine!”

“Actually, I don’t know how much you can.” Youngjo says, slipping the journal from Mingi’s hands to give it to Hwanwoong. Mingi scrambles on the table to take it back, failing as Youngjo pulls it just out of reach.

“Please, don’t! It’s too embarrassing!” he says, eyes jumping from the journal to Hwanwoong and back. 

Youngjo hums, but closes it and gives it back. Mingi holds it against his chest.

Hwanwoong looks at him, curious. “Why, what does it say?”

Mingi glares at him.

“Succubi need a source for their power. They get it through... you know...” Hongjoong answers, trying to sound professional and not as embarrassed as his pink cheeks betray him to be. “Mingi might need to, uhm, _eat_ like that as well eventually.”

It doesn’t help that Hwanwoong was looking into Mingi’s eyes as Hongjoong says that, and he has to quickly look away, faces once again hot and red.

“Oh no, what did I miss?!” Dongju whines, as he enters the room again. He’s got a bassinet filled with various cuts of red meat under his arm, with a bunch of single portions ice creams too. “Can I help with the mood? Should I tease hyung about Mingi hyung?”

“It sounds very entertaining, but I’m sure this is enough as it is.” Hongjoong says, smiling. “Would you like some help?”

As Hongjoong and Dongju start defrosting the meat and chat quietly, Mingi slowly opens up the journal again, quickly skipping the part he was reading before to get to the next one. Hwanwoong cleans up the empty plates, only leaving one for Mingi. 

“Oh.” Mingi murmurs, as he turns a page again. “I might be stuck like this?”

Hwanwoong stops with his hand on the faucet he was about to open, but doesn’t turn around.

“It’s a possibility you might not be able to conceal your appearance, yes. And there’s a possibility we might not be able to craft a charm or glamour strong enough to hide it, too.” Youngjo answers. “We will not be sure unless we try, of course, but… the lack of... _anything_ , really, that talks about a hybrid managing to conceal their demon features isn’t really encouraging.”

Mingi nods along, turning towards Hongjoong. “Hyung… where do I go from here?” he asks, voice trembling a bit. “I mean, I know Seonghwa hyung and the others won’t have any issues with me like this, but… what about everyone else?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Hwanwoong wraps his arms around Mingi’s neck, pulling him into a warm hug. Mingi noses immediately at his neck, wrapping his arms around his waist and his tail around his legs, holding on.

Hunters, even if hiding carefully their actual profession and involvement with the occult, live their lives as regular humans. Hwanwoong knows Mingi has plenty of friends who have no clue about his profession that he’d be devastated to know he has to cut them permanently from his life. He’s not like Hwanwoong and his family, used to hide and stay on their own, mingling along the crowds and into the city only when necessary. He’s got too big of a heart.

“I’m sorry, Mingi.” Hongjoong murmurs, petting him gently. “Unless there’s a way to conceal all this lovely new features of yours, I’m afraid you’ll need to stay hidden.”

Hwanwoong feels his shirt get wet on the shoulder, but says nothing. Holds on Mingi a little tighter.

___ * _ * _ *** _ * _ * ___

Hwanwoong gives Mingi space for the following few days. They decide it’s better for the hunter to stay with them, where Youngjo and Seoho can check on him easily and where there’s plenty of people who can deal with a rabid demon in case things go very, very bad. 

He concentrates on useful little things for him instead, like modifying clothes to fit his tail and stocking their pantry with beef jerky so that he can have snacks whenever he wants. It’s not as useful as Youngjo conversing with the coven in hopes to find more information or Hongjoong looking into Mingi’s past — he was abandoned as an infant at the convent where Hongjoong’s hunter group held their training — but it was enough to not make him feel completely useless.

Mingi, on his part, seemed to ease into his new form very easily, having full control of his whole new body as soon as the third day.

“Your tail is doing it again.” Hwanwoong smiles, as he feels Mingi’s tail curl around his calf. 

Mingi hums. “I know. It’s supposed to.”

They’re chilling together on the bed in the guest room, Mingi laying down on his front sideways, with his journal that Youngjo asked him to fill in daily with a bunch of informations — how much he ate, how high was his temperature, if he noticed anything new, etc — and Hwanwoong sitting against the headboard with yet another book of fiction about demons. 

Hwanwoong reaches out to pet the tail, brushing his fingers over it. It’s warm to the touch and pushes against his palm. He moves along the length until he reaches the hem of the t-shirt Mingi is wearing. He slips his fingers underneath and scratches just where the tail meets his spine. Mingi sighs happily, putting aside the journal and letting his head rest against the covers. He pushes against Hwanwoong’s hand each time the older scratches him.

“Like a cat.” Hwanwoong voices his thoughts with a smile, leaning down to place a kiss in the dip of Mingi’s spine. 

Mingi turns around on his back, leaning on his forearms. “Don’t tease.”

“Okay.” Hwanwoong hums, putting his book away and straddling Mingi’s thighs. “I won’t.”

He leans down, slowly, so that Mingi has all the time to refuse if so he wishes, but apparently there was no need as Mingi closes his eyes and leans up just enough for their lips to touch. Hwanwoong closes his eyes too, cupping Mingi’s face to guide him into the kiss.

It’s been too long since the last time they kissed, even if Hwanwoong can still recall it easily and clearly in his mind.

They were in a similar position, only in Hwanwoong’s room instead. Mingi had passed by to give back some books he had borrowed for research from their library, and then somewhat ended up on Hwanwoong’s bed instead. Not that either of them had complained, on the contrary. That had been the first time Mingi had seen Hwanwoong’s turning scar, usually hidden either behind a turtle neck or a choker. “Sexy.” Mingi had commented, in his usual goofy way of trying to be alluring. 

“Sexy.” Hwanwoong echoes, now, as he brushes his thumb across the ridges of Mingi’s horns.

“You don’t hate it?” Mingi asks against the skin of Hwanwoong’s neck, where he’s slowly kissing his way down his collarbones.

Hwanwoong makes Mingi look at him, guiding him with his finger under his chin. “Mingi, you know I can never hate you.”

It’s hard, needing to be vulnerable, to put aside all the walls and lay his heart bare for the other to see. Especially to someone like him who refuses to show it to anyone. But Hwanwoong knows it’s long overdue, and that Dongju was right, as he often is. Mingi was worth it, whatever was coming their way.

“You’re precious to me, you’ve been for a long while” He tells Mingi, gently caressing his fingers through his hair, pulling him into a sitting position, much more comfortable for a conversation like the one he was starting. “And you might realize it’s a little heavier when someone like me says that I can see myself staying with you from now on, until whenever.” He smiles down at Mingi, leaving a light kiss on the tip of his nose. He feels Mingi’s hand hold him tighter at the waist, pulling him closer. “The day you were dying in my arms, I never regretted eternity making me keep my distance more.”

Mingi shakes his head. “I’ve been stupid too.” he says, pulling Hwanwoong into a kiss, deeper and hungrier than the ones they had exchanged until then. “I kept thinking about how many better men there were before me, and how many more would be after me as well, as if they were the ones who mattered, and not you.”

Hwanwoong laughs into the next kiss, keeping Mingi where he wants him with a hand on his jaw and the other scratching at his nape. He licks at the seam of Mingi’s lips until the other stops being stubborn and opens his mouth with a sigh.

It’s fun, trying to kiss where there’s now two more sets of sharp canines involved, as if Hwanwoong own weren’t already a challenge before. Mingi must be thinking the same thing as he tries not to laugh too much, deciding to just concentrate on something else, like kissing along Hwanwoong’s jaw.

“Does this mean you’re mine as long as I’m yours?” Hwanwoong asks, despite the choice of words making him cringe. He doesn’t view Mingi as property, nor he wants to be himself, but he can’t seem to find a better way to try and convey what he’d like their relationship to be: everything else seems too much or not enough. And saying _will you be my boyfirend_ feels just cringy.

“As long as you’re mine too, yes. Absolutely.” Mingi answers, speaking right against Hwanwoong’s pulse. He’s so warm, wrapped completely around Hwanwoong, but he doesn’t feel trapped at all, nor suffocated.

Hwanwoong dips his head again to kiss Mingi on the lips.


End file.
